


gone too soon

by CurriedSugar



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Isaac Beamer Versus the Supernatural (Undertale), Angst and Tragedy, Car Accidents, Death, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gen, Gun Violence, Heart Attacks, Heavy Angst, Lots of it, M/M, No happy ending here sorry, Overdosing, Suicide, and some of it is kinda brutal, i tagged this as mature for a reason folks, this is for an au i'm making with a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurriedSugar/pseuds/CurriedSugar
Summary: Not a day goes by that I don't think of youI'm always asking why this crazy world had to loseSuch a ray of light we never knewGone too soon, yeah
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	gone too soon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saxophlute12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saxophlute12/gifts).



> Please read the warnings in the tags, folks. This fic is probably the angstiest fic I've written yet.
> 
> So me and Jitters, a good friend of mine (who I am gifting this fic to) created an IBVS AU. I don't want to share much information about it yet, since she's unable to access social media for reasons I'd prefer not to get into for the moment, mainly to respect her privacy. However, I did want to share this fic at least, to give some backstory.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

It all began in late April, not too long after Isaac’s 17th birthday.

Edward was waiting for a few of his friends from the basketball team, since they were all planning to go celebrate their victory in the semifinals earlier that day. Edward was in a good mood, nothing could ruin this for him.

Well, almost nothing.

Someone approached him and shoved a gun in his face, screaming incoherently. Edward was starting to panic, holding up his hands, pleading the hoodied individual to slow down, and to please put down the gun, they were making him a bit anxious.

They fired three gunshots; one in his stomach, one in his heart, and one right in the middle of his forehead.

He was dead almost as soon as he hit the ground.

* * *

The school was oddly quiet for the next few weeks afterwards. Edward Quinton, captain of the basketball team, the king of the school, was dead. Gone. Everyone in the school was grieving, including the cronies. 

There wasn’t another school king. Ed’s cronies took charge of the school instead, all as a group. They felt as if it was what Edward would have wanted. His jacket was hung up in the lair, alongside many notes the cronies and other students had written to mourn Edward.

The whole school showed up at his funeral, except for Barry, Edward’s childhood friend. He’d stopped coming to school after Edward’s death. In fact, nobody had even seen him at all since then, not even his girlfriend Stacy. Rumors started to spread; he dropped out of school and skipped town. He got a fake ID and ran off with a hooker from a nightclub. He started an illegal drug ring and lost himself to a life of crime.

While the school was mourning Ed and pondering Barry’s whereabouts, the Supernatural Club had pretty much fallen apart. Edward was the self-appointed “president” of the club, and without him, nobody knew what to do. Should they try and investigate any supernatural things? How would they find anything supernatural to investigate, since Edward wasn’t there to track things down with his senses?

Nevin was always uncharacteristically silent during the meetings. He seemed distant, empty, almost cold, even. It was a lucky day if he even spoke more than one or two words. Drew was usually trying not to cry, shaking like a leaf, clutching onto Isaac tightly, who was doing his best to comfort Drew, even though he was still shaken from Edward’s death himself.

That just left Chris to be the glue keeping the remainder of the Supernatural Club together.

May was halfway over. Finals were taking place, and everyone was counting down the days until summer break. People stopped grieving over Edward, but the school felt empty somehow, as if there was something important missing, like the final piece of a puzzle.

Chris was driving through town, trying to calm himself after a nasty fight with Xavier. He was shaking terribly as he listened to some music, taking deep breaths. He was approaching a busy intersection, and started to slow down.

Then his phone rang right in the middle of a song, scaring Chris half to death, causing a knee jerk response which made him slam his foot on the gas, speeding right in the middle of an intersection, where two cars slammed into both sides of him.

Chris died before the EMTs even made it to the scene, scared, alone, confused, and begging for his mother.

* * *

If the Supernatural Club was falling apart before, now it had been shattered into pieces. Without Chris there to keep the club together, it slowly fell apart. Meetings grew less and less frequent, to the point where they stopped meeting altogether.

Everyone who was left started to change. Drew started to eat less and less, and was losing himself in exercising compulsively until he felt ready to collapse on the floor. Nevin shut himself away from everyone; he dropped out of school altogether, despite his grandmother’s protests, and locked himself in his room, only coming out to get food and go to the bathroom. He was visibly putting on weight, and you could see huge bags under his eyes, which were red and swollen from sleeping and crying all the time, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

Isaac began to hurt. His entire body hurt all the time. He had constant headaches and other pains and sores all over his body. He developed insomnia, so his tiredness grew so bad, it felt like he was dying. He could go on and on for ages, he supposed. 

He started taking pills. Painkillers to make the headaches go away. Melatonin to make him go into a restless sleep. He was soon growing dependent on them. Not because he was developing an addiction, but because the pain was growing so bad, he needed more pills more often.

One day, the pain was bad, so, so bad. It was so bad Isaac woke up in tears, and he hadn’t even had a nightmare- no, scratch that, he hadn’t even dreamt, he hadn’t since Edward and Chris died. Isaac scrambled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, opening the nearest pill bottle with his shaking, sweaty hands. He dumped a bunch of pills into his hands and gulped them down dry.

Turns out, it was too much of a dose.

He collapsed to the floor, his breathing becoming shaky, more slow. The pills clattered to the ground as his vision blurred and blackened. He was tired, really tired. He needed a nap…

He found himself lying down on the floor of the bathroom, passing out almost instantly.

Several minutes later, his breathing stopped.

* * *

Nevin and Drew were the last two left.

Drew was absolutely torn over Isaac’s death. He sobbed over Isaac’s corpse in the viewing at the funeral, clutching his boyfriend’s cold hand in his bony, thin ones, tears streaming down his face as he hiccuped uglily. 

Nevin didn’t even show up, let alone ask anything about the funeral at all. He was in the kitchen raiding the fridge when Drew came home, and Drew was understandably  _ pissed. _

“I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE YOU!” Drew screamed at Nevin, tears in his eyes as he stared at his twin with fury. “MY BOYFRIEND DIES FROM AN OVERDOSE, YOU DON’T ASK ANYTHING ABOUT HIM, OR ABOUT THE FUNERAL, OR GOD FORBID HOW I FUCKING  **_FEEL ABOUT IT!_ ** ”

Drew’s bony body was shaking and quivering in rage, a firesome fury burning in Drew’s tired eyes, which shocked Nevin for the first time in months. He took a shaky step back, dropping the leftover pie that was in his hands, the dessert splattering to the floor.

“Nevin, I love you, I really do. But right now? I wish you were dead where you  **_stood._ ** ”

Drew ran off to his room, slamming the door hard, leaving Nevin alone. Tears streamed down his face, his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his sobs. Drew’s words  _ hurt.  _ They hurt  _ bad. _

He instantly knew what he had to do. Hopefully, it would make Drew happy.

He went out to the shed and got a long rope, taking it up to his room. He dragged a chair to the middle of the room and tied the rope onto the ceiling. After making sure the rope was secure, he tied the other end around his neck. Nevin took a deep breath, and jumped off the chair, knocking it over.

He started to choke, gasping for air as he gripped at the rope. What was happening? He didn’t know, and he was scared. He tried calling out for help, swinging his chubby little legs in the air, clawing at the rope to try and loosen it, but no luck.

After what seemed like hours to Nevin, he drifted out of consciousness, and his body went totally limp as death took him away, his fingers bloody from scratching at the rope, his eyes empty and dull of life.

* * *

Drew stood there in shock four what seemed like hours, staring at his brother’s corpse hanging from the ceiling. It was like something out of a horror game, seeing Nevin’s body dangling from a rope, his fingers bloody.

Drew barely held back a scream, covering his mouth and running off to his room, slamming the door shut behind him, panting heavily, tears streaming down his face. Oh no. Oh, no no no no no no no no! This couldn’t be happening, this just couldn’t! But he knew it was.

Nevin was dead. He’d killed himself. And it was all his fault.

And even worse, now he was all alone. No brother, no boyfriend, and God only knew what happened to Barry.

He had absolutely no one.

Drew curled up and cried, hugging his knees close to his chest, when suddenly he felt a heavy pressure in his chest, as if an elephant was sitting right on top of him. It was getting harder and harder for him to breathe now. He was gasping for air, clutching at his chest frantically.

And then came the pain.

It was excruciating, seeming to rip and tear through his chest. Drew stood, clutching onto his chest, screaming as he trembled. He fell to his knees, bringing his bedside table with him. He was growing lightheaded, but with his last ounce of strength, he managed to pick up the picture that he had kept there; the very last photo of all of them together, mere hours before Edward’s death. Tears streamed down his face as he smiled sadly, his vision blurring and darkening.

“At least...I’ll be with you guys now…” Drew whispered.

Everything went completely dark, and his heart stopped.

The Supernatural Club was no more.


End file.
